


This December

by rgamer9



Series: ABO Gamer AU [1]
Category: Romeo And Juliet - All Media Types, Romeo And Juliet - Shakespeare, Romeo et Juliette - Presgurvic
Genre: Alpha/Beta/Omega Dynamics, Blood and Injury, Bloodplay, Daddy Kink, Depression, Forced Self Harm, Graphic Description, Hurt No Comfort, Implied/Referenced Drug Use, Knifeplay, M/M, Mean Sex, Self-Harm, Suicidal Thoughts, alpha mercutio, alpha romeo, it sort of reads as noncon so be wary of that but its not, this is not safe sex in any way.
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-09-29
Updated: 2020-09-29
Packaged: 2021-03-08 01:15:27
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,779
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26707345
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/rgamer9/pseuds/rgamer9
Summary: Romeo and Mercutio set a bet while streaming.The characters I write are explicitly the characters from Toho's Romeo et Juliette (black cast).
Relationships: Mercutio/Romeo Montague
Series: ABO Gamer AU [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1938238
Kudos: 2





	This December

**Author's Note:**

> this is super graphic with self harm and suicide so if that is upsetting to you don't read.
> 
> this is set in hybrid au, where everything is the same as gamer/abo au, but they also have animal ears and tails. romeo is a golden lab, mercutio is a papillon dog, benvolio is a squirrel. despite this being an au, this is still part of romeo and mercutio's history as friends. its just in hybrid au because i thought it would be fun :) theyre dog lol

If someone asked Romeo what the fuck happened that lead him to right this second, he wouldn’t have a single bit of a clue.

He was streaming, he was definitely a little higher than he should be, and he had made some bet with Mercutio… What even was it? He’d be painfully reminded of it tomorrow, with clips of it all over his Twitter timeline, but right now, he didn’t remember. His brain was all foggy and murky, and the weird sensation of Mercutio licking into his mouth didn’t help that.

Not because he liked it, though.

Romeo’s lips hung open and he let Mercutio do what he pleased, grabbing at him and shoving his tongue in his mouth and knocking their teeth together while he tried to piece tonight’s events a little more. 

He knew for sure that he didn't drive to Mercutio’s place, because he remembered sitting in a little bubble, a world of his own, in the back of an Uber while his phone was being blown up with texts from Mercutio to be reassured that Romeo really was on his way there. Romeo had taken another few hits before he left, and it had started hitting right then; he couldn’t answer Mercutio’s texts even if he wanted to. When he was dropped off… It was sort of a blur until when Mercutio was screaming with laughter and dragging him by the arm to his room, where he was shoved to sit down.

What little work he’d done in his brain was cut off by Mercutio laughing now, in real life, and asking him, “What, you stupid fucking dog? Am I turning you on so much you can’t even think to kiss back?” Romeo didn’t have enough time to process it fully before Mercutio started talking again. “I bet you’ve been waiting for this, huh? Waiting for  _ daddy  _ to fuck you?”

Daddy?

It rang as no surprise that Mercutio was into that, and Romeo, if he weren’t out of his mind high right now, would’ve laughed at it, or pointed out that he was bigger than Mercutio, or made a comment about knowing that Mercutio didn’t smell a single bit of arousal from him. But he was, and he felt out of his body while he watched Mercutio grab a knife from the bedside table. His attention was directed to the desk, across the small room from where him and Mercutio were seated on the edge of the bed, and he could see Mercutio’s monitors open to the Twitch homescreen, and Mercutio’s phone, propped up to record them do whatever was about to happen.

What  _ was _ about to happen?

That bet… the agreement was… Fuck, what was it? He wished his out of body consciousness could shake himself around until he remembered. It was something about sex... Did he seriously agree to go all the way?

Romeo looked back to Mercutio, and despite how dark it was in his room, where they were mainly illuminated by Mercutio’s LED lights and his monitors, he could see his little tail wagging beneath his shirt. The butterfly knife was opened and the flat part of the blade was pressed against Romeo’s cheek. Romeo just stared right back at Mercutio, deadpan even though his best friend was grinning and laughing at him.

“Come on. I know you’re dripping in slick for daddy’s cock, but you could at least talk a little more. Be a good dog, everyone’s gonna be so fucking bored watching this shit when you’re just sitting there like a little bitch.” Romeo’s face was grabbed and directed back to the camera. As if he didn’t see it already.

“Your tail’s wagging,” was all Romeo had thought to say in reply, and he was on the verge of snickering about it when Mercutio growled at him. A flat, mindless, “Haha,” left him. It was more like he was reading the word rather than laughing.

“Shut the fuck up.” Mercutio took the knife to Romeo’s shirt, and he cut it open, right down the middle.

“Oh.” 

Romeo didn’t really want his shirt to be cut. If his skull wasn’t swimming in what felt like syrup right now, he would’ve known to be on his toes around Mercutio with a knife. Mercutio was off the chain naturally, and he was overexcited about having Romeo, pliable and open to sex, so it only made sense that he’d do something like that. “...I liked that shirt.”

“I’m fucking cutting you next, idiot.” 

He didn’t believe it, logically, but there was something in him that felt very alerted by it. Not in danger, honestly, but in excitement. Blinking hard, he shifted where he was sitting, waiting for Mercutio’s next move. 

Mercutio must’ve been able to see something in his eyes, some sort of eagerness that was too telling, so he threw his head back with a loud, howling cackle, and he adjusted to be sat on his knees, grabbing Romeo’s shoulders. “You like that fucking shit? That’s so perfect, I can’t believe you didn’t tell me this already.” He shook Romeo around, and quickly moved on to be yanking on his sweatpants. “Come here. If you like it so much, you’re gonna fucking do it yourself.”

Romeo’s heart started beating hard. Suddenly, his soberness hit him like a freight train. His thoughts were still scattered, but he felt so in the moment that he shuddered hard. He wanted to ask Mercutio if they could stop, just so he could smoke a little more, but his sweatpants and underwear were being yanked off of him, and he had more important things to focus on. “I- I don’t…” The conscious and aware part of his brain, out of nowhere forced to be back in his body and focused on what was occurring, didn’t connect with his mouth fast enough. He couldn’t get any well-thought sentence out. 

“Don’t be a little fucking bitch. You lost the bet.”

He did, didn’t he?

Mercutio pushed the knife into his palm, his significantly littler hand wrapping around Romeo’s knuckles to urge the tip of the blade towards his thigh. 

Romeo had this feeling well up in him, like something big was about to happen. It made him shiver again, and he backed away from both Mercutio and the knife. He was scared. He wasn’t ready.

“Come the fuck on!” Mercutio snapped in his ear, his little dog voice making Romeo twist his face up in a cringe. “You lost the bet. You lost, so you’ll do what I fucking tell you to. Now do it, mutt. Cut yourself.”

His breathing picked up and he gripped the knife handle tighter, feeling Mercutio’s oddly strong grip steady his hand. Romeo could stand up. He could, he could just get up and leave and tell Mercutio he didn’t care that backing out made him a coward and that he was going home. But, as scared as he was… he didn’t want to stop. He was just scared of this waking something up in him.

The past few months, after moving out only days after graduating high school, he had found himself spiraling deeper and deeper into something he couldn’t vocalize; this feeling of hopelessness, of complete and utter isolation. The worst part was that he did it to himself. Old friends from high school, influencers of a similar following, and his closest friends all reached out to him, and he ignored it all. Romeo wasted days on days just laying in bed, sleeping and staring at the ceiling and wallowing in this bone deep knowledge of horror and dread. He was so alone. No one cared. No one would understand. 

The sharp objects in his apartment started to mock him. When he was able to drag himself to the kitchen, the single knife he had laying on the right side of the sink stared at him and called him to something he was too terrified to try. He wanted to, though, because it felt like the only relief he would ever get from this. Romeo could be alone, he could be a despicable and useless piece of shit and he could be completely forgotten about by everyone. It would be okay because he would have that, this feeling he envisioned would come with cutting himself. This feeling of understanding, of getting what he was deserving of, of making himself worthy of those people who tried to check in on him.

But he was too scared; it was terrifying, to try and do that to himself. 

Romeo tried a few times. There were a few nights where he would cry on his kitchen floor, knife in hand and sweatshirt sleeve rolled up. He would press the tip into his wrist, where he could feel his pulse, and his skin tingled in anticipation and need, but he just couldn’t do it. He would cry harder then. He couldn’t even cut himself right.

The real knife, a whole lot sharper than his old and never-sharpened kitchen knife, pressed with more urgency into his thigh. Without even realizing it, a shuddering sob left Romeo. He wanted it so bad. The warmth of Mercutio’s bare chest pressed against Romeo’s arm as he cuddled closer, and he could feel Mercutio’s gaze on his face. 

“Romeo. Do it. You wanna bleed so fucking bad, do it yourself. I’m not gonna fucking baby you about it.”

His lower lip wobbled as his head hung forward. “Please,” he whispered, not even thinking about how embarrassing this was. It didn’t feel humiliating, no matter how obviously it was Mercutio’s motive. “You do it.” Romeo cried out when he got exactly what he asked for. The knife, in Romeo’s grip and being controlled by Mercutio, raised and slashed across Romeo’s thigh.

Still somewhat high, this was a religious experience. This was what it felt like to come into contact with God. Romeo watched, in both horror and fascination, as the cut gaped open and blood welled to the surface. Despite the size of the cut, the blood was slow in raising up, but once it did, it wouldn’t stop. It rolled down his thigh and soaked into Mercutio’s comforter. 

“There, you fucking pussy. Now it’s your turn, since I was nice enough to do it for you the first time.” 

Romeo was less scared now. His mouth was watering with the need for more, to keep going, and so he did was he was told. He used that butterfly knife and he cut his thigh, again and again, starting with timid papercut-esque cuts and gradually giving himself bigger and bigger wounds until they were the size of Mercutio’s initial cut. 

He was so absorbed in this that he didn’t even notice Mercutio pulling his cock out of his pants and rubbing it against his side. It wasn’t until he heard Mercutio moan that he was broken from his trance, and Romeo picked up his head and stared at his friend with wide eyes. He didn’t have enough time to process the fact that he just destroyed one of his legs, because now Mercutio was taking the knife from him and placing his cock on Romeo’s bloody thigh, continuing to roll his hips into it. 

“It hurts,” Romeo whimpered quietly, both as a cry for help that Mercutio could never understand and both as a plain statement to the agitation to his injuries.

He couldn’t believe that his undoing, the beginning of the end of him, was being caught on film. 

“Good. It’s more fun like that.” Mercutio kissed his neck, teeth digging into his scent gland hard. 

_ That  _ felt too genuinely good to ignore. Romeo dropped his head back and balled the blankets up in one of his hands. “Oh…” The burning of his cuts, especially the ones being bothered by Romeo, became background noise to this. All of the hookups he’d had (mainly messy and rushed fucking with girls he didn’t have much interest in) were never as skilled as Mercutio was with his mouth. The heat of his tongue and teeth against his scent gland was the thing that finally made Romeo start getting hard, too.

Romeo chose to not think about the questioning in his sexuality that this brought up. He also chose to not think about how he was letting his best friend mark his scent gland.

When his scent was finally making it more than obvious that he was turned on and wanting some sort of attention to his cock, Mercutio snickered and pulled away. Romeo was then turned away from Mercutio to be sitting on his knees with his back to him. Maybe it’d be easier being fucked by Mercutio when he didn’t have to look at him.

Mercutio’s cock was pressing against the small of his back, right next to where his tail was being forced against his back, while he reached around him to shove his fingers in his mouth. Romeo didn’t hide the noise of discontent that he made around Mercutio’s fingers, but he let Mercutio poke and prod at his cheeks and gums and teeth. He pushed down on Romeo’s tongue and even slid further back in his mouth, clearly trying to get Romeo to gag. Romeo didn’t know if it was because of how spaced out he was or if because he genuinely didn’t have a gag reflex, but he didn’t react to it at all. 

“You’re such a fucking slut!” Mercutio’s voice displayed how surprised he was. Yanking his fingers out of Romeo’s mouth, he rubbed his cock against him more and pressed the tips of two of his fingers against Romeo’s hole. “You don’t even fucking gag and you aren’t gay? You won’t even suck my dick? You’re such a waste of a slut.”

Romeo had nothing to say in response to that. He was too zeroed in on the fingers pressing against him and making him squirm. It felt so… unusual. He knew he could stop Mercutio, though there was a little hope in the back of his mind that he would get cut again. The skin of his unmarked thigh felt so sensitive, like it was aching to get cut, too. He didn't know where the knife was, or he would just do it himself. Romeo didn’t know if he’d feel satisfied even once his legs were both coated in blood.

“Ask for it. You gotta beg for daddy’s fingers, since I know you want it so bad.”

Was Mercutio playing this up for the camera, or did he actually act like this? Either option didn’t really seem too far out of line for him, but this was way out of Romeo’s own experience and expertise. Even pretending like it was a bit for the camera didn’t help. His brain was ping ponging from the need to cut himself to the acknowledgment that he, in some weird, twisted way that he  _ hated _ , did want to get fucked. He wanted to cum, soaked in his own blood and being treated like the good for nothing piece of shit that he was. It was what he deserved. 

“I…” Romeo’s head hung forward, absentmindedly scratching his clean thigh to appease his tingling. He shook his head then, feeling heat rise in his face. He couldn’t say that at all, much less to a long-time friend of his, but the more he thought about it… Mercutio gave him the push he needed to finally hurt himself. Surely the step from to here to actually killing himself wasn’t too big. If he wasn’t going to be around for that much fucking longer anyway, did it matter? Did anything matter?

“I want daddy’s fingers,” Romeo whispered, feeling outward shame but utter emptiness on the inside as his ears pressed down against his head. It didn’t matter. Mercutio posting this everywhere and remembering this for the rest of his life didn’t mean shit either if he wasn’t around to experience it. 

Mercutio’s fingers pushing into him made Romeo grunt and screw his eyes shut tight. It felt… weird, to say the least. A more appropriate word for it was probably pain, though it was nothing compared to the way his leg hurt right now. Mercutio didn’t wait for him to adjust, just moving his fingers in and out of Romeo fast and getting short, quiet noises of discomfort in reward. “Get your fucking tail out of the way, idiot,” Mercutio hissed, grabbing Romeo’s tail and yanking on it hard before shoving it to the side. 

That was the most definite and displeasing pain he’d felt yet. He yelped and slipped his tail under his arm, pressing it into his side with his elbow. The soft, golden fur of his tail was soon dirtied with his blood.

As Romeo felt more and more separated from the situation, definitely out of dissociation rather than being high, he was glad Mercutio wasn’t prompting him to talk more just yet. He stared at the bed and hesitantly touched his thigh with his right hand. The entire surface of his thigh was coated in slowly drying blood, but the cuts finally seemed to stop pouring out blood. He picked at the clotting blood covering his wounds, occasionally making some sort of noise as a result of what Mercutio was doing to him. Every now and then, Mercutio’s fingers would brush against something that felt illegally good, and it made Romeo rise up some on his knees and moan for real.

“Can’t believe you want daddy that bad, Romeo.” Romeo just whined low in response to another one of Mercutio’s laughing fits, and when Mercutio pulled his fingers out of him, he lurched forward. Now he felt so oddly empty. Mercutio was next to his side again, the side with his clean and untouched thigh, and he had the knife again. 

Romeo’s ears perked up, breath catching in his throat. Spreading his legs, he eased his leg closer to Mercutio, and he was shocked into silence when Mercutio kept laughing at him. 

“You’re so fucking desperate, holy shit. Your little dick’s so hard.” 

He already knew he probably looked like shit; his face was red and his eyes were wide and his entire body was just trembling while he sat there and waited for what was to come. Mercutio pointing it out made another wave of embarrassment go through him. “Cut me,” Romeo whispered.

“What, you’re a little painslut? You like being cut up that fucking much?” Mercutio’s face grew closer to his as he talked, until their foreheads were being smushed together and Mercutio was basically talking into his mouth. Romeo just whimpered more. “If you like it that much, I’m gonna use your fucking blood to fuck you.”

He was kissed while his other thigh was cut, making him grab at Mercutio, holding onto his wrist and his jaw. Something about being talked to like that while being sliced up, on top of the warmth and closeness of another person was so overwhelming to Romeo. It was hard to not get grabby with Mercutio. He clung to him, some needy part of his brain being scared that he would leave, as Mercutio rubbed his cock directly on the gaping wound on his thigh. 

“Mercutio. Mercutio.” He squirmed and gripped Mercutio’s wrist harder, mouth hanging open again to try and catch both his breath and his thoughts. Mercutio just took it as an opportunity to shove his tongue into Romeo’s mouth again, touching the roof of his mouth and the backs of his teeth. “Hurts.”

“Bet you want more, huh?” 

Romeo guessed he did. He didn’t really know how he felt right then; he was barely there at all.

“Uh-huh.”

Mercutio must like being so needed or something, because he wasn’t as mean after that, and even though Romeo knew he deserved to just be used however Mercutio wanted to, the self preservation in him was grateful for it. He slid back behind Romeo, rubbed the head of his cock against his hole, and he placed his hands on Romeo’s shoulders to force him to sink down on it. And it fucking hurt; he was way, way bigger than just two fingers, and the most lube he used was Romeo’s blood. Romeo cried out loudly and quickly covered his mouth with a bloody hand. Tears pricked the corner of his eyes as he squeezed them shut again.

Mercutio’s arms came around his waist and pressed him close, encouraging Romeo to basically sit on his lap. The pain in his legs made him separate from his body, but the pain of Mercutio’s cock stretching him out brought him back to reality. He so genuinely didn’t feel like being in reality right now. “Fuck. Fuck. God, fuck.” Romeo clung to one of the arms around him, digging his nails into Mercutio and keeping his head hung forward.

Without asking, Mercutio leaned away from him, and he grabbed Romeo’s shoulders again, splaying short fingers across his collarbones as he encouraged him to move his hips on his cock. Romeo let Mercutio make the decisions and move him however he liked, resting his palm over the one super-fresh cut that was still bleeding. He dug the heel of his hand into it to feel something a little better than how bad Mercutio’s cock hurt inside of him.

After a little while of being worked on it (and feeling his own cock gradually become nearly completely soft again), Romeo shifted his hips of his own accord, and Mercutio’s dick rubbed more prominently against that unnamed pleasurable spot inside of him. That was better. “Mercutio,” he said in a hiss, and Mercutio’s hips bucked up into him hard, making him almost squeak in surprise. “Daddy.” That word felt more foreign than ever in his mouth.

“Yeah, you like daddy’s dick stretching you out?” Mercutio’s voice was different now. It wasn’t angry or mean or anything like that, anything Romeo was used to over their years of being friends; it was more eager to please. That made sense, Romeo guessed, since at the end of the day Mercutio  _ was  _ a small dog. Maybe that was just a part of it. 

Romeo didn’t reply, but he did moan when Mercutio kept fucking him in eager little bursts of thrusts, grabbing at his shoulders and sides. He could imagine Mercutio’s tail was probably wagging faster than ever. 

Whenever Romeo started enjoying it too much, he reminded himself of the reality of what was happening. He thought about, after all that happened tonight, the fact that he would really have to kill himself. That heavy truth was scary. He was scared of dying, but he was scared of cutting, too, and it wasn’t nearly as scary as he thought it would be. Zoning out again, he thought about what he should tell Benvolio, if he should tell him anything. He’d give him a key to his apartment, maybe. He’d trust Benvolio with his shit more than anyone else, but he also knew that it wouldn’t matter where his belongings went. If he was dead, it wasn’t even  _ his _ things anymore. 

Little brainless noises escaped him when Mercutio filled him up, or if he fucked him particularly hard, but he didn’t even notice the fact that he was building up to his orgasm. 

This stupid video of him getting fucked by Mercutio would be the last big thing of him online. He would just be remembered as some pain slut taking Mercutio’s cock, and he knew that was more than he deserved in the first place. The selfish part of him didn’t want that, though, and he could feel another big welling of some unnamed feeling inside of him again. His mom would remember him like this. His fans would remember him like this. Was this all his life had been leading up to? 

When Romeo came, he started to genuinely cry, sitting on Mercutio’s cock and shaking and wrapping his bloody hand around his knot a little too late to be any form of satisfying. This moment is all he would be summed up as, forever. 

This fucking sucked. 

Mercutio pressed against Romeo again, clinging to his waist and squishing his cheek against Romeo’s shoulder blade as he kept moaning and breathing fast. He could feel Mercutio’s thighs twitching beneath him and Mercutio’s knot start to swell, so he lifted his hips some so that he wouldn’t be knotted. However, that wasn’t taken all too well by Mercutio, who growled and yanked Romeo back down on his knot, forcing him to stretch out way more than he really could’ve ever prepared for.

Romeo just cried harder as Mercutio shivered and filled him with his cum and moaned like he was the one getting fucked. 

“Ahhh, alpha…” Mercutio whimpered, continuing to press Romeo onto his lap and make him grind down. 

He knew being called that didn’t mean anything when it came from Mercutio. If it  _ did _ mean something, it meant just about as everything else did to Romeo right now. As soon as Mercutio pulled out of him, Romeo moved to be beside him, laying on his stomach and continuing to sob. The mess between his legs felt awful. 

He didn’t know why he started crying here. It’s not like Mercutio knew how to offer him any sympathy. It’s not like Romeo was worthy of any sympathy.

Everything hurt; his cuts pressing into the blankets stung and he felt so sore and his chest ached from staring his own death right in the eyes. Romeo wanted to go home. He couldn’t stand up. He listened half-heartedly to Mercutio catching his breath and laughing to himself as he hopped up from the bed to presumably grab his phone from the desk. 

“You’re a pretty shitty fuck, you know that?” Mercutio said as he flopped on the bed next to Romeo. “You don’t have to keep crying, I know my dick’s good, but give it a fucking rest.”

“Okay,” Romeo breathed after a few minutes of trying to calm down, sniffling and slowly pulling himself up to crawl to the edge of the bed. Remembering he didn’t even have a shirt after all this was so fucking defeating. He carefully slid his underwear and sweatpants back on, whimpering and scrunching his face up at how fucking bad it hurt everywhere, at how dizzy he was now. “I’m… I’m gonna go home.” 

He wanted to collapse to the ground and keep crying. He felt like he was mourning the loss of his own life.

Mercutio didn’t reply to him past an acknowledging grunt, surely figuring they would just talk tomorrow when they streamed together at the normal time. Romeo turned and looked at Mercutio’s room from the doorway, where his door was replaced with just a sheet of hanging beads. This was the last time he’d see it. He was going to throw up. 

Stepping through the beads revealed Benvolio also leaving his bedroom, likely purely for the reason of catching Romeo before he left. Both Romeo and Benvolio’s faces crumpled at seeing each other. Romeo knew how pathetic he looked right now, but there was no stopping himself from sobbing again at seeing Benvolio for the last time. He’d miss his cousin the most, maybe. He had the biggest heart and he was so nice and responsible and he was the only person Romeo felt genuinely safe around. Upsetting Benvolio by killing himself was his biggest fear about doing it. 

“Romeo.”

It was so gentle. Benvolio wasn’t judging, he wasn’t disappointed. He was just concerned. Romeo’s knees wobbled and he sunk to the floor right there, sitting and bending over until his forehead was on the ground. He had to physically bite his tongue so he wouldn’t say anything about his plans to Benvolio. As guilty as he felt, knowing he’d upset Benvolio, he didn’t want to be stopped. 

Benvolio’s hands were wrapped around Romeo’s upper arms, clinging to him. “Romeo,” he said again, urging him into the safety of his chest. 

Romeo grabbed at his shirt, gasping for air as he cried and cried. The nausea was getting worse. He’d have to beg for forgiveness in his letter. Pleading for Benvolio to not be upset at him for doing this might not make up for it but it was all he could do. There was no other choice. 

“I’m sorry,” he hiccupped after a few minutes, and he rushed to give a reason before Benvolio could ask him and he would say something damning. “Blood on your shirt.”

“It’s okay, doesn’t matter to me. Not more than you.”

Romeo could only pray to God that Benvolio would be as forgiving later. 

**Author's Note:**

> if anyone read riding the waves, the carrd with au info is closer to being done :) we're getting there  
> rgamer9.tumblr.com


End file.
